Mr Gold's Porn
by darcyfarrow
Summary: Emma grins as her fingers hit the keys. "Now, let's see what sorts of websites the mysterious Mr. Gold visits in his leisure." And then she gasps, and so does Ruby.


**Mr. Gold's Porn**

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**AN: Just a little quip, not serious. A tag for my stories "Unbroken," "Saved by Zero" and "Arising." And the blank in front of Gold's name is a space holder until the OUAT writers reveal his first name. That name, I'm sure, when revealed will be so amazing that for me to guess at it now would be almost an insult.**

**Of course, OUAT isn't mine, and the world's safer for it.**

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Half of the Storybrooke city government has gathered in Astrid and Leroy's Cafe (formerly, Ruby's, before Ms. Lucas found her true calling; and formerly formerly Granny's, before that worthy perished in the Regina War). The dignitaries—the Mayor, the City Planner, the Chair of the Chamber of Commerce, the Sheriff and her Deputy, the Library Director, and the Director of the Bureau of Tourism—are nominally celebrating completion of Phase II of the Storybrooke Rebuilds project: the restoration of the last of the city's buildings to have been damaged in the war (Phase I having been the post-war clean-up; Phase III, scheduled to commence tomorrow, being the active courting of new businesses to town).

But the real reason the dignitaries are celebrating is the return, after two years, of two prominent former citizens who had left the fair city to ascend to the thrones of the Enchanted Forest: King James and Queen Snow. The royal couple is on vacation from their duties as heads of state, with a single exception: they wore their crowns this morning during the ribbon-cutting heralding the grand opening of the _Gold Public Library.

Hunched around City Planner Gold's laptop, working as usual, are King James, Chamber Chair Baelfire "Bill" Gold, Library Director Ruthie Hansen, and Tourism Director August Booth. Bae is on about "enterprise zones" while August is interrupting with cautions to "avoid big box stores so we can preserve the quaint quality that will bring tourists in." For his part, the City Planner keeps reminding the others to "be mindful of traffic flow patterns" on main thoroughfares.

"The pizza's cold," Queen Snow is saying, but her husband and his cohorts don't hear her. With an annoyed head shake, her daughter the Sheriff orders another pitcher of beer and refills everyone's mug. "The pizza's cold," Snow announces again, louder. Again, no one hears her except Leroy, who offers to reheat the offending pizza. "Don't bother," Snow sighs. "It'll just get cold all over again."

If the Queen can't command attention, perhaps the Mayor can. In her best meet-the-press voice, Mayor French-Gold, tapping her beer mug on the table, calls out, "Friends, may I remind you the city council meeting ended two hours ago. There is a time for everything, and right now, this is the time for pepperoni—or for those of you prone to dyspepsia, plain cheese."

"Of course, my love. You shall have my undivided attention." The City Planner tears his eyes from the monitor long enough to smile charmingly at the Mayor. . . but his fingers keep flying across the keyboard.

"Ah ha! Caught you!" Madame Mayor declares, standing and pointing dramatically. "You're sneaking peeks at your laptop, aren't you?"

The City Planner tilts his head coyly (a look his wife can't resist). "Indeed not, my love! I said you would have my undivided attention, and so you shall—in just one more minute, my love. You see, August has this idea for a golf course—"

"We could get on the pro circuit!" The tourism chief spreads his hands in full confidence that of course anyone could see the importance of the PGA to Storybrooke's future.

"And Ruthie's thinking of a northside branch—" Gold knows any talk of a library is guaranteed to interest Belle.

"All electronic. Imagine what a Highsmith Library Innovation Award would do for this town!" Ruthie gushes.

But Madame Mayor will not be moved. "Beloved, I will ask just once more: leave the work until tomorrow. . . please." She smoothes down her skirt with great dignity and sits down gracefully. She's just won.

Without a second glance at the monitor, Gold closes his laptop. "You were saying, my darling Belle?"

One of the qualities of a successful leader is the wisdom not to gloat, and Mayor French-Gold is a successful leader. With a heart-melting smile, the mayor presses it upon her husband to eat some pizza, cold or not. The City Planner obeys.

The other laborers, following Gold's fine example by abandoning their work for their families, become engrossed, as Gold has, in conversation and pizza. The laptop is pushed aside.

Unfortunately, Gold is paying so much attention to his wife (as all dutiful husbands will) that he doesn't notice he's eating pepperoni. It's a fact well known about town that Mr. Gold is among those mentioned earlier who should avoid pepperoni. Listening intently to his wife as she talks about family matters, Gold polishes off four slices (which he eats with a knife and fork) before he realizes his error.

His face reddens. "Uhm, my love, did you bring, uhm—"

Belle reaches into her purse and withdraws a packet of little pink pills, which Leroy immediately recognizes, even without reading the label: Pepto Bismol. City Planner Gold hastily retreats to Leroy's comfort room.

Emma notices the abandoned laptop and grins wickedly at her Deputy. "Hey, you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Ruby yanks the computer forward. "Right behind you, Sheriff." She nudges the Mayor. "Here's your chance, Belle."

"My chance?"

"To find out about his secret virtual life." Ruby wags her eyebrows.

Belle chortles.

"Aw, come on," Emma winks. "We've all done it: sneak a peek at their laptops or smart phones."

"Nope."

"You mean to tell me you've never even peeked at his browser history?" Ruby's skeptical.

"Nope."

"You peek at your Christmas presents before Christmas, don't you?"

"Well, once or twice. . . ."

"And when you're taking his suits to the cleaners, you go through the pockets, don't you?"

"Yes, but that's just to make sure something important won't be—"

Ruby snaps her fingers in the air. "There. You're one of us: a snoop."

"But to search his computer—"

"Don't you want to get to know your husband better? Unwrap another layer of that mysterious man you love?" Ruby presses.

"Well, I—" Belle sputters. "Besides, I'm the mayor. It wouldn't be—mayorly."

With a hasty glance at the other diners, Emma assures herself no one else is watching, and she drags the laptop into her lap and flips the monitor up. "Well, I'm the Sheriff, and investigation is sheriffly."

"Absolutely," Ruby verifies, peering over her boss' shoulder. "Besides, he left it on; what more of an invitation do you need?"

Emma grins as her fingers hit the keys. "Now, let's see what sorts of websites the mysterious Mr. Gold visits in his leisure."

Ruby leans on Emma's shoulder, her dark eyes glistening with mischief. "Mr. Gold's porn."

"Oh, no, no way," Belle protests, but she can't help herself; she leans on Emma's other shoulder.

"There it is, girls," the sheriff crows, waving at the monitor. "The most frequently visited site. Dozens and dozens of downloads. Mr. Gold's porn."

And then she gasps, and so does Ruby.

In alarm, Belle looks from the monitor to them to the monitor to them. "What?"

"Well, I—" Emma peers at the monitor in disbelief. "I never would've—"

"Me neither," Ruby breathes. "Him?! Mr. Gold?!"

Emma shrugs. "He's the last—"

"What?" Belle demands.

Ruby adds, "Oh, absolutely, the last! Mr. Gold?!"

"WHAT?"

Shaking her head sadly, Emma drums the monitor with her fingers. "I don't know how to tell you this, Belle."

Ruby clicks her tongue pitifully. "Maybe you shouldn't, Emma. I mean, they're so happy the way they are."

"True. This information may be best kept secret. Imagine what it would do to Storybrooke if the news leaked that a high-ranking government official. . . ."

"WHAT?" Belle leaps to her feet.

"She has a right to know, Emma," Ruby suggests. "If you were in her shoes, wouldn't you want to be told?"

Emma sighs heavily. "All right. As your friend, and as your employee, I suppose—"

"Emma Swan, if you don't tell me right now, I'm going to announce a recall election and run Sidney Glass against you."

Emma snickers. "You play hardball, Madame Mayor. All right, don't say I didn't warn you. Well, you know how some men are into online gambling and some are into online porn—well, Belle, your husband's online vice—oh, Ruby, I can't say it, I just can't break her heart this way."

Ruby pats the sheriff's shoulder comfortingly. "You must, Emma. It's always better to know the truth."

Emma sets the laptop onto the dining table and shoves it away as though it's a pile of maggot-infested garbage. "Are you sure, Belle? Really sure you need to know?"

"So help me, Emma Swan, if you don't—"

"All right. Madame Mayor, your husband's online vice is—I can't bring myself to say it, so just listen." She pulls the laptop back, flips it open again and clicks "enter."

"_Shake shake shake/Shake shake shake/Shake your booty/Shake your booty_. . . ."*

Ruby clutches her chest in mock agony. "Mr. Gold's porn is disco!"

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***Giving due credit: KC and the Sunshine Band, "Shake Your Booty"**


End file.
